Luke leans in to whisper, “Sounds close to what Marty’s stepfather confessed while he was being interrogated.”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I want to bring that man back to life, just so I can kill him all over again. Fucking piece of shit. He not only sold his wife to the Resistance for money, but he emotionally blackmailed her by threating her son’s safety to do his bidding. On top of all of that, he used his own stepson, who worked his ass off at the dairy, to pay his bills.
When Dimitri and I found him cowering in the corner of the holding cell during our fight with the Resistance, we may or may not have accidentally killed him. But since I burned his body to ash, along with the rest of the assholes we murdered, there is no proof of what we did. Accidental casualty of war is the excuse I would offer if anyone asked. But, when I told Elias he was dead, he didn’t question me.
“Why did she do all of that on her own? You’re all magic wielders of different species?” Elias asks a young man with raven-black hair and a sharp nose with a slight hook at the tip. Crow shifter.
“We were drugged. They took us from our homes and injected us with something. When we woke up, we couldn’t shift or use our magic,” a young woman with bronze-colored hair and gold-colored eyes answers for him. Hawk shifter.
“She transitioned into a white wolf and killed all of the men on the boat?” Chris directs his question to the entire group.
“Just the men in suits. The men who actually took us—there were five of them. I think they called one of the men Alfred. Anyway, they left with the man who brought her, on a small motorboat. Scar and Strap have been looking for them since we returned home,” Clary explains. Scar’s arm wrapped around her shoulder.
Elias looks down at the ground, eyes shifting as if searching for a memory.
“Then you found her washed up on the shore near Pier Twenty-seven?” Chris inquires.
Strap steps forward. “A couple of days before that, Shadow called, asking for a favor, and gave me a description of a missing girl. Everything was chaotic. Our family members went missing and…” He sighs and brushes a hand through his messy hair. “It wasn’t a priority for us at the time, but I told him that if I saw a girl who matched his description, I would call. Then, our girls returned home and?—”
“We pleaded with them to help us find the girl with the long blonde hair who shifted into the white wolf. We needed to save her. She saved us. We owed it to her,” Amery interjects.
Everyone in the group nods.
“When we found the girl on the shore, I saw the scar on her face. At first, I wasn’t sure. But now we had extra mouths to feed, and we could barely feed ourselves, let alone afford a place for everyone to live.” He glances in Amery’s direction and drops his head. “So I called Shadow, hoping that this was his girl, and he could take care of her. I knew he would pay us for finding her if it was.” He looks away from his sister.
“It was the best solution. We already have to hide who we are, and now with avian species and lion shifters in the slums, wecouldn’t hide a white wolf. That would have just put a target on our backs.”
Chris rubs his chin in thought. “No. You did the right thing. If it makes you feel better, Alfred Marks is dead, and the other four men with him were transferred to the Northern A officials. Apparently, they had a foot-long rap sheet of crimes, including kidnapping and sex trafficking. You can thank the Princess for putting them on their radar.”
The crow shifter and hawk shifter step forward. “A lot of us didn’t return home because we owe the white wolf a life debt. We promised her before we escaped that, if we ever crossed paths again, we would be here. We want to help.”
The crow shifter nods. “We’ve been watching the men in suits. They recently moved to another location a few blocks from the warehouse they originally inhabited. They have two prisoners with them.”
“Anders Knight and Shadow Larson,” Jessica says. The group parts, allowing her to walk to the center. She is now dressed back in tactical gear with weapons strapped to her body. Her long, platinum-blond hair is tied back in a fancy braid that starts at her crown and now rests over one shoulder. “We need to find them before it’s too late. If you could point us in the right direction, we’ll leave. You can all go back to your lives and live in peace.”
A young man with shaggy long hair—a lion shifter, based on his looks—steps forward. “Those men in suits took my mother and sisters. They’re not just a threat to your territory and your species. Those men are hunting all species with magical abilities. We,” he slowly moves his index finger in a small circle, “are proof of that. Thisisour fight, especially if this means we can prevent more shifters like us from being taken.”
Jessica drops her chin and looks down at her toes, concern etched on her face. She glances up at Luke, Chris, and Elias and shakes her head.
“He’s right, Princess,” Scar says, removing his arm from Clary. “This is our fight. If you’re going to war against the suits, we’re all going with you.”
Collective mumbles of agreement echo around the room.
Chapter 75
Saving My Enemy
SHADOW
Six Years Ago
They moved us from that dingy, dusty warehouse to an abandoned apartment building. My body aches. With every stretch and turn, I reopen wounds littered all over my body. How did I get these? Nothing feels right. I know what I was told but…
The man everyone calls sir, or Byron, hovers over me and hands me the butt of a gun. “I want you to shoot anyone who comes in here and claims that they’re saving you.” I look down at the gun he’s holding out. “They’re our enemies. They tortured you. We saved you from them, and now, they want you back.”
I think of the man with the white hair. They strung him up from the beams in the warehouse and cut into his skin with dull knives, shocked and burned him with jumper cables, and slid slivers of metal under his toenails. He’s a shifter, and yet he didn’t fight back, didn’t transition to fight for his life. He just hung there and took all that pain. Not once did he cry out.He never answered their questions, no matter how much they tortured him.
I take the gun from the man’s hand and place it on my lap. He nods in approval before exiting the room. Bandages cover my torso. My pants are caked in blood. I lean forward to get a better view of my feet. My toenails are missing. Did they really save me from torture, or did they torture me? Why can’t I remember any of it?
